The Juggling Act Page 2

  I smile and respond, “That’s fine. I was planning on meeting Rachel at the mall with her kids anyway.”

  Aidan starts crying and I jump up to retrieve him from his crib. Brandon makes no move to get up, drifting back to sleep. In all fairness, performing is tiring, and he was up later than me. He was more hyped up after the show. Jane kept Aidan across the street, and I was eager to pick him up, carry him back to his crib, and get some rest.

  “Hi, Pumpkin.” I affectionately lift my son out of his crib and hug him tightly. He is perfect in every way. His beautiful black hair and dark blue eyes remind me of my sister, Jackie, whose coloration is the opposite of mine. Aidan looks like he could be Jackie’s child. Even though he’s adopted, he resembles the family a bit. It will be interesting to see if Jackie’s baby looks the same.

  My younger sister is now married and expecting her first child. She lives in Northern Virginia, and neither of us have time to make the two hour drive as often as we would like. She met her new husband, Chet, while volunteering at the homeless shelter. Chet actually runs the homeless shelter, and is extremely left wing. And a Buddhist. As if that isn’t enough to give my mother a coronary, they got married at the homeless shelter, without telling anyone, and their wedding picture is a selfie with various shelter residents in the background. Jackie knows how to rile up my mother, but at least it takes her attention away from critiquing my decisions.

  My wistful smirk fades into a sigh as I carry Aidan downstairs to feed him a late lunch. We are off our schedule, but who cares? It’s a holiday.

  “Daddy’s sleeping, Aidan, but we can eat without him.” The two continuously hungry wieners dance at my feet, hoping for a scrap of our lunch.

  So now Zoe is coming over tomorrow. Bringing on a new female vocalist was part of Brandon’s plan to launch the band into genuine success. At least Zoe is friendly towards me, and she doesn’t seem all that amazed by Brandon. She’s in her early twenties, and looks like the stereotypical rocker chick with dark sunglasses, leather, and lots of black.

  I trust Brandon, but I knew being married to a man eight years my junior would make me feel insecure at times. I just wish we were on the same page about the attention of other women, like Diamond and even our nanny.

  Speaking of being on the same page, I may have been the one who wanted a second wiener dog, but Duncan is not as much work as another baby. Brandon has been pushing me to adopt another child soon, claiming that it’s best for the kids to be close in age, and it would be good to complete our family before I turn forty, which is another year and a month away, but apparently looming large as a deadline. I guess he thinks forty is the year I will shrivel up, and my inevitable incontinence will eat up our diaper budget.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Brandon

  Don’t know what to say, didn’t think we’d end this way.

  But you’re gone, there’s nothing more to say.

  You just left me, there’s nothing more to say.

  Is this what you wanted?

  Baby I’m haunted, please come home.

  I don’t wanna live this way.

  I can’t keep living like this. Day in. Day out.

  I just wanted you to stay.

  But you just pushed me away.

  Baby, I’m not okay.

  The sunshine just seems unreal.

  I can’t remember how to feel.

  Was this a game to you, or was it real?

  What do you say, deal or no deal?

  Is this what you wanted?

  Baby I’m haunted, please come home.

  I don’t wanna live this way.

  I can’t keep living like this. Day in. Day out.

  I just wanted you to stay.

  But you just pushed me away.

  Baby, I’m not okay.

  Everyday gets harder without you.

  I don’t have anyone to run to.

  The music doesn’t make sense without you.

  I don’t have anyone to cling to.

  Is this what you wanted? Baby I’m haunted, please come home.

  I don’t wanna live this way.

  I can’t keep living like this. Day in. Day out.

  I just wanted you to stay.

  But you just pushed me away.

  I don’t wanna live this way.

  I can’t keep living like this. Day in. Day out.

  I just wanted you to stay.

  But you just pushed me away.

  Baby, I’m not okay.

  Is this what you wanted?

  Baby I’m haunted, please come home.

  “How did that sound?” Zoe blinks her heavily made up eyes. They’re like two emeralds in black tar.

  “Great. Even better than last night. Of course, you haven’t started drinking yet.” Teasing Zoe is like teasing an edgier version of my little sister.

  She places the microphone back in the stand, and steps off the makeshift stage the band constructed together. I’m not the handiest guy around, but Max and his brother, Rob, are excellent carpenters. They’re also huge. We all make fun of Jon. My bass player is the lone corporate guy in the group. He actually works for an insurance company. No wonder he’s looking for excitement.

  Zoe lifts her cape-like leather jacket and pretends to fly around the room. I guess she pretended to be a super hero when she was a little girl, which was only a few years ago.

  “I’m like Wonder Woman.” She stops abruptly. “Except without the boobs.”

  Why is it when a woman mentions her boobs your eyes immediately go there? For some women, I think this is a challenge, a trap perhaps, waiting for us to spring it so we can be reprimanded for being men. Zoe won’t do that, though. It’s actually hard to tell what’s going on up there because she always wears black, and everything is flowing or layered in such a weird way that I don’t even know what to call her outfit. Are those leggings? Pants? Stockings? Is that a shirt? Dress? Claire would know.

  “And I don’t drink during a show. You know that.” She comes close to my stool behind the mixing board, and wags her finger at me. “So let’s drink now.”

  She practically skips over to the bar area, and asks if I want anything. Before I can answer, she has two beers open. I reluctantly accept the bottle.

  “What’s wrong? Claire’s not here, and I hear she used to put away some alcohol before she became a mommy.” She takes a swig of her Corona and smiles. “I’m thinking of dying my hair purple. Would that be okay with the band?”

  Zoe works at a tattoo shop as her day job, so she has a wide berth with fashion choices.

  “Purple, huh? I guess you could pull it off.” I clutch my beer and feel a twinge of guilt. “Claire doesn’t care if I drink, but I don’t want her coming home from her shopping trip at the mall to find me drunk with my young, sexy co-singer.”

  “Wow, you called me sexy. That’s so sweet of you.” She pulls the other stool next to me and hops up, her combat boot-clad feet dangling. “Claire loves me. She’s not the jealous type.”

  I almost spit my beer and choke a little. Zoe smacks my back more vigorously than I would have imagined she was capable.

  I put up my hand to stop her. “I’m okay.”

  She peers at me with her smoky, jeweled eyes.

  “Claire isn’t jealous of you, or at least I don’t think she is. You talk to her and you’re great with Aidan and the furry monsters.”

  Claire’s dogs only interact with me when she’s home. When she goes out they sulk until she gets back. Actually it’s Dixie who does that, and Duncan is little and dopey enough to follow the wiener queen’s lead.

  “Well, why wouldn’t I talk to her? Wait, I know. It’s that chick across the street with the skinny ass and the bug eyes that’s the problem.”

  “I feel like Claire’s mad at me all the time. I think she’s jealous of our music, too.”

  “That’s bullshit and you know it. Claire loves the music, and if she hated it she wouldn’t like me. Now are you going to answer my question?�
�

  “You didn’t ask a question.”

  She punches my arm with her bejeweled hand. The hand itself is tiny, but I have never seen rings that size before. Each one is practically an inch thick.

  “You know what I mean. Okay, here’s the question. What’s going on with the chick across the street with the big, pouty lips?”

  “Nothing. Diamond is just bored and a little lonely, and we have kids close in age. She and Claire don’t have a lot in common, so they don’t really interact. And besides, I’m the one home during the day. I’m not always around when she comes over, but sometimes Tatiana watches the kids and she—”

  “That’s what I thought. She uses every excuse to come down here and seek you out. Am I right? She’s hot for you.” Zoe looks me up and down and says, “Personally, I like my guys a little more macho. Maybe if you got a tattoo or worked out a little?” Her smile can’t be contained.

  “Hey, I could lift your whole body over my head. But I am not falling for that, because if Claire comes home and finds me drinking and touching you…oh my God.”

  “So you don’t see how Claire doesn’t like this woman coming over all the time, bonding with you and her child, and ignoring her?”

  I hang my head and sigh. “I get it, but Claire has nothing to worry about. I wouldn’t be jealous if a guy was into her. I trust her. Yes, Diamond is an attractive woman, but I love my wife, and I have no intentions of cheating on her and destroying our family.” I look up and add, “Actually I’m working on adding to it.”

  Now Zoe almost spits her beer. “What? Another baby? How is that going to work? Have you told Claire about your plans for the band?”

  I shift on the uncomfortable stool and say, “No, not really, but she has to know that original material means spreading our reach. How could she not know we’re going to start touring if this takes off? She knows I’m working on getting us a gig at the CherryLane, and most of their headliners have record deals.”

  “She may suspect it, but if you’re not talking about it, that’s not cool. How the hell is she supposed to work full time and take care of two babies alone while you’re on tour?”

  “She has Tatiana. Although she’s not crazy about her, either. At least when I’m around, but I would be gone, so it would be fine. And it’s not like we are suddenly going to become famous and start getting booked at places like The Dominion.”

  “You never know, we’re pretty amazing.” She smiles and continues, “Where is the nanny? Off for the weekend?” I nod and she continues. “So is she hot for you, too?”

  This conversation gets more and more uncomfortable by the minute. I’m trying to keep my women problems quiet, and the worst way to achieve that is to talk to another woman about them, no matter how unconventional and young the woman appears.

  “She’s a little flirtatious sometimes, but she’s just trying to do a good job.” I am so fucked.

  “Hmm…what kind of job? Hand? Blow? How about—”

  “Stop it! Jeez. Have another beer. Actually let’s work some more. How about that?”

  Zoe hops off the bar stool and sticks out her tongue. “Whatever, Mr. Grumpy.” She assumes her previous position in front of the mic. “I just don’t understand the baby logic. Why don’t you wait until the first baby is no longer a baby, at least?”

  “I don’t know. I figure if I keep Claire surrounded by babies and wiener dogs, she’ll be happy.”

  “That is a safe bet with her, but I think she sees you with her in that dream scenario. She could very well be fine with you touring, but you better talk to her about it.”

  She flicks her long, dark hair behind her shoulders and grabs the mic. With a black fingernail, she points at me. “And if I were you, I would throw a bucket of cold water on the bimbo neighbor. Maybe she’d like Rob.”

  Claire

  “Mommy, James made a poopy in his pants.” Four-and-a-half-year-old Anna holds her nose and seven-year-old William falls on the floor laughing.

  Rachel pushes her chair back away from the mall food court table, and attempts to lift her sizable girth to assess the alleged poopy pants situation.

  I cringe and say, “I’m not sure this was a good idea. Maybe we should have stayed home and shopped on the Internet.” Rachel is eight months pregnant, and is in full waddle mode at this point.

  She holds her lower back and winces. “You’re probably right, but the kids love eating crap at the mall, and riding these silly little cars and dinosaurs.”

  All three of her darlings are playing on the coin operated rides, while we sit at a table nearby. Aidan just points and laughs, and is content to run his little car along his highchair, dropping it on the floor approximately every six seconds. “Mama!” He points with his little finger and I pretend to chew on it, which makes him laugh harder.

  Rachel wobbles over to her offspring, all of whom are named after British nobility. Her unborn child is a girl, and will be christened Elizabeth. Rachel’s husband, George Ainsworth, is a direct descendant of the Mayflower passengers. The whole thing is a bit pretentious to me since my people came over much later, during the Irish potato famine. Yeah, it’s a cliché but it’s history. I gave my son an Irish name. George and I have more in common than I had ever recognized.

  Rachel grabs the stinky one, and drags him off to the bathroom, asking if I don’t mind keeping an eye on the other two. I shoo her off and watch the siblings play and laugh.

  It would be nice for Aidan to have a brother or sister close in age, but I don’t know if I have the energy. Rachel is spent, and she doesn’t work outside the home. Although, she works her ass off in the home, as George travels a great deal for work. But he also makes a boatload of money. Maybe that’s what happens when your people came over on the Mayflower.

  My phone buzzes in my diaper bag (yes, I have traded a purse for a diaper bag on weekend outings), and I sift through the baby wipes and baggies of Cheerios to retrieve it. Maybe Brandon is done early with Zoe. It would be nice to do something as a family tonight. It’s a text message.

  “Hey Gorgeous – have you checked your work e-mail on your very looooong vacation?”

  Justin. He’s such a smartass. I smile and write back, “No, why? Are we going out of business?”

  “No, but me and you have been summoned to the principal’s office on Monday.”

  That’s bizarre. “Pam’s office?”

  “Yep. Weird, right? What do we have in common as far as our work? Personally, we have a lot in common, but it doesn’t matter since you insist upon sleeping with your handsome husband.”

  I can see the smirk in these texts. He still flirts with me, but it’s all in jest. He hasn’t made a single move on me since he got back. He respects my marriage and motherhood.

  “I wonder what’s up. What time is the meeting?”

  “10:00. Your boss, the suave Frenchman, was invited, too.”

  Why would Didier and I be asked to a meeting with Pam? Oh my God, did I send an inappropriate e-mail? Not that anyone gets fired for that in our crazy workplace.

  “Well, I guess we’ll find out on Monday. Have a good weekend.”

  “You, too. Hug that little guy for me. Oh, and the baby, too.”

  I sigh in exasperation and put my phone back in the diaper bag. Rachel is carrying James under one arm while he flails.

  “Stop it this instant, James.” Calling a child who isn’t even two James, instead of Jimmy, is just weird. It sounds like she is commanding a middle-aged Duke to refrain from pooing in his trousers before the polo match.

  I suddenly feel heat wash over my entire body, and I am covered in sweat. I pick up a stack of napkins and start fanning myself.

  “Another hot flash?” Rachel offers a sympathetic gaze while wrangling James into his stroller. I hope Aidan doesn’t become this obstinate as he gets older. Although, it’s probably a phase. The older two are well-behaved.

  “Yeah, it’s ridiculous. We’re the same age and you’re having your fourth baby,
and I’m menopausal.”

  “The hysterectomy was what, like four or five years ago?”

  “Yes, but Dr. Mason said that my ovaries have only been tricked for so long, and now they know that they are just shooting eggs out into the abyss.”

  Rachel laughs and sits back down, receiving a hug from little Anna. “Mommy, can we get ice cream? I ate all my nuggets.”

  “Okay, let’s not tell Daddy what we had for lunch. He might feel bad that he didn’t get to come.”

  George is a health food nut. Rachel purees baby food or grows her own…something? It makes my head spin. She would probably churn her own butter, if it weren’t for the obvious health risks of the delicious substance.

  She turns back to me, “You poor thing. But of course you’re the one with the cute, young husband.”

  “Yes, but the problem is many other women notice his cuteness, and some are not well-behaved.”

  “Oh, is it the tenant again? What’s her name? Crystal? Sapphire?”

  “Diamond.”

  “That’s right. Is she really making a move on Brandon?”

  “I wouldn’t know since I’m not home all day.”

  “Well, you have the nanny, right?”

  “She’s no better. You should see the way she dresses, and unlike the sparkly pencil across the street, Tatiana is quite filled out in all the right places. Like one of those big, sexy, full-figured models. With unruly hair and the inability to speak more than few dozen words of English. Also, a tendency to want to please men.”

  I finish wiping the sweat off my forehead and slump back in my chair. Aidan kicks his feet and smacks the table. Too bad he can’t talk yet, although I have a feeling that will only make matters worse to hear his confused, toddler accounts of the activities in our household.

  “You should have hired an older lady for the nanny job, and why did you rent to Diamond?”

  “The rental management company found her. I have no time to do anything, and I didn’t even see her until she moved in. I knew she was a single mother with a little girl, and I was sympathetic to that. It isn’t even her looks. Brandon is home alone right now with a beautiful twenty-two-year-old rock chick, and I’m not worried. Diamond’s actions are what fuels my green-eyed monster.”